y second date with Christian oh-so-mysterious Grey. From coffee to helicopter rides. Wow.
“We’ll go by helicopter to Seattle?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He grins wickedly.
“Because I can. Finish your breakfast.”
How can I eat now? I’m going to Seattle by helicopter with Christian Grey. And he wants to bite my lip… I squirm at the thought
“Eat,” he says more sharply. “Anastasia, I ha一ve an issue with wasted food… eat.”
“I can’t eat all this.” I gape at what’s left on the table.
“Eat what’s on your plate. If you’d eaten properly yesterday, you wouldn’t be here, and I wouldn’t be declaring my hand so soon.” His mouth sets in a grim line. He looks angry.
I frown and return to my now cold food. I’m too excited to eat, Christian. Don’t you understand? My subconscious explains. But I’m too much of a coward to voice these thoughts aloud, especially when he looks so sullen. Hmm, like a small boy. I find the thought amusing.
“What’s so funny?” he asks. I shake my head, not daring tell him and keep my eyes on my food. Swallowing my last piece of pancake, I peek up at him. He’s eyeing me speculatively.
“Good girl,” he says. “I’ll take you home when you’ve dried your hair. I don’t want you getting ill.” There’s some kind of unspoken promise in his words. What does he mean? I lea一ve the table, wondering for a moment if I should ask permission but dismissing the idea. Sounds like a dangerous precedent to set. I head back to his bedroom. A thought stops me.
“Where did you sleep last night?” I turn to gaze at him still sitting in the dining room chair. I can’t see any blankets or sheets out here – perhaps he’s had them tidied away.
“In my bed,” he says simply, his gaze impassive again.
“Oh.”
“Yes, it was quite a novelty for me too.” He smiles.
“Not ha一ving… sex.” There – I said the word. I blush – of course.
“No,” he shakes his head and frowns as if recalling something uncomfortable. “Sleeping with someone.” He picks up his newspaper and continues to read.
What in hea一ven’s name does that mean?
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